Wishing Dust
by witandwaldorf
Summary: It starts with a tiara. Gilded and sprinkled with glitter, crystals sparkling brightly. Once placed atop her head, the story begins. But little does she know, it's not a fairytale that awaits. It's a nightmare, lonely and empty. Hollow and desolate. No happily ever after in sight. A 13 Going On 30 AU starring Dair.


**I wrote this 13 Going On 30 one shot on a whim, I hope you all enjoy it. If you haven't seen the movie it won't affect reading this at all, you should still be able to follow along. For those that have, you'll notice I changed the ages from 13 to 15 to make Dan and Blair closer to their Season 1 counterparts and I also dropped the work plot in the interest of time. Also it starts out set in suburbia NY instead of the Upper East Side to fit in with the movie plot. More notes at the end of the story :)**

* * *

 _It starts with a tiara. Gilded and sprinkled with glitter, crystals sparkling brightly. Once placed atop her head, the story begins. But little does she know, it's not a fairytale that awaits. It's a nightmare, lonely and empty. Hollow and desolate. No happily ever after in sight_.

* * *

It's Blair Waldorf's fifteenth birthday and what will be the most pivotal day in her life. The day she finally becomes a part of the Step Sisters aka the most popular girls in school who every day at lunch, sit in their exclusive spot on the steps of the school, hence the name. She's invited Serena van der Woodsen and all her friends to her party and the best part is they said they'd come.

Everything has been planned to perfection like it always is when she has her way. Her parents promised to stay out of the house, agreeing to spend their afternoon out back in the patio. Using every last bit of her savings (from years of allowance), she sprung for catering of fancy hour devours, gift bags with Butter nail polish and the newest Chanel mascara, and even a band scheduled to play. Well, the band isn't exactly the coolest part since the frontman is Rufus Humphrey but given the party funds had run dry, it'll have to do.

There's a knock at the door and Blair smooths out her dress. An original by her mother. It's a black lace dress with a scoop neckline that shows off her delicate collarbone. She steels herself as she opens the door, ready to greet the first of the girls. But it's not any of the Step Sisters, it's just Dan.

He seems to start to say, "Hey," but stops short, instead taking her in strangely.

"What?" She frowns, looking down at her dress where his eyes have landed. "Is it awful? I knew I shouldn't have let my mother design my dress-"

"No," He finally speaks. "You look beautiful."

If she hadn't been so caught off guard by his words, she might have noticed the flush in his cheeks and the way he was looking at her. Like he loved her. But alas, she did not and instead muttered thanks, dragging him inside.

Blair hadn't exactly wanted Dan here, he was hardly going to win her favor with the girls. But he was her best friend and she couldn't exclude him, especially after he promised to get the guys from the lacrosse team to go. Including the captain of the team, Nate Archibald who happened to be Serena van der Woodsen's boyfriend. "When are the guys getting here?"

"Soon I guess," Dan shrugs. "But I wanted to give you this before everyone got here."

It's then that Blair notices the neatly wrapped present in his hands which are now outstretched. "Oh, thanks." She looks distractedly out the window, checking to see if anyone is walking up yet.

"I guess I have time to open it." She goes and sits down at the tufted couch, gently unwrapping the paper as Dan sits beside her.

"I hope you like it," He comments nervously.

She smiles at him briefly, unaware of what that small gesture does to his heart. From the box, she retrieves it. A glittering crystal tiara with delicate scalloping, each groove coming to a point.

"It's just a symbol really, of when you'll be Queen someday. Queen B, right?" Dan laughs nervously as she turns the tiara over in her hands.

"I love it," She smiles brightly, not quite feeling the words she saying. She's too distracted to really listen to him and think much more about the present so she puts it atop the box.

"Thanks, Dan." She starts to hug him at the same time he starts to say, "Wait, there's something el-"

But then, the doorbell rings and she pulls back. "They're here!" She runs over to the closet, shoving the box inside and placing it on a shelf before rushing over to the door, the tiara still resting on it.

Swinging it open, reveals Serena van der Woodsen at the center of all six Step Sisters. Blair smiles, "You came!"

"Of course, Blair." Serena's glossy pink lips spread into a smile. "So should we come in? The boys _are_ here, right?"

Blair flusters, "They will be, any minute."

Serena looks annoyed but comes in anyways, retrieving a flask from her purse. "It's not a party without alcohol." She walks over to the pitcher of lemonade and dumps it in. Then, Serena seems to spot Dan, standing awkwardly in the living room. "Oh, Lonely Boy is here."

Blair detects a disapproving tone and responds quickly, "Dan's the one that invited all the guys from the lacrosse team. Right, Dan?"

"Yeah," Dan nods, "I think I just heard a car pull up. It's probably them."

Thankfully, it does turn out to be them and Serena nods approvingly. Blair had feared she would leave if they didn't get there soon. Once they're all inside, Serena is pouring out drinks demanding Blair finishes her still full cup. The girls all chat away, sipping daintily as they wait for the boys who are loudly making their way to the door, come in.

Serena reaches into her purse, a Chloe, as the boys file in and retrieves a piece of paper. "Before I forget, I had a huge favor to ask Blair. I have this essay due Monday and since I'm at your party, and have a mani/pedi scheduled tomorrow I won't have time to write it. You don't mind do you? If you do, I can just go home and work on it."

Blair shakes her head, furiously. "Of course not." She takes the paper, detailing the essay instructions. "I'll have it emailed to you by Sunday night."

"Thanks, you're the best." Serena now turns to the group, who's all becoming louder and louder with each drink. "Now, let's play a game. Seven minutes in heaven."

Before Blair can even react, Serena is taking her hand. "Blair, since it's your birthday you go first. With…" Serena's blue eyes search the room and land on a spot that fills Blair with cold dread. "Dan!"

"Oh no," Blair and Dan begin to protest simultaneously. Both cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Serena ignores their objections and grabs them both and shoves them into the closet. "Have fun! Seven minutes starts now!"

They're both too flummoxed to act and instead stare back at each other as their eyes adjust to the darkness. Through the closed door, she hears a muffled exchange of giggling. Then she hears someone say, "Let's leave this snoozefest." Blair tries to push open the door but it won't budge.

Serena's voice responds, "Duh! Why do you think I put them in there? Let's steal the booze first." There's a clattering and then the sound of the front door opening and slamming shut.

"Dan?" Blair looks to him, thankful the dark will hide the tears in her eyes. "I can't get it to open!" She pushes again on the door, harder this time.

"Blair, I think they left." His hand comes to rest on her arm. "I'm sorry."

"Stop, Humphrey. I don't want your apologies, I want out!" She shoves again, to no avail.

"I think they blocked the door." Dan says simply. "It's okay, your parents will let us out soon. Or my dad, he should be here any minute."

"This is so embarassing," Blair sinks down to the ground. "This party was a total disaster. I really thought I was finally going to be one of them. I'm such a loser. A friendless loser."

Dan sits down beside her, their legs touching in the cramped closet. "No you're not. You have me." His hand finds hers in the dark and squeezes it. "You'll always have me."

Blair shakes her head, a tear splattering on her cheek. "It's not the same."

Dan's hand pulls away. After a pause, he speaks again. "Hey, you never finished opening your present. Is there a light in here?"

"No!" Blair lies quickly, refusing to let him see her cry. "The lightbulb burned out." She lies.

"Oh well, still, I can tell you about it." He feels around and finds the box, opening it back up. He pulls out the tiara and places it on her head. "It's your birthday, you deserve to feel like a princess. Plus, you didn't even get your real gift."

He places what feels like a book in her hand. "It's a story, I wrote it for you." He clears his throat, awkwardly.

When Blair sets it back in the box, Dan just says, "You can read it later. Oh and there's this!" Dan pulls out the little packet, tearing it open. "Magic wishing dust, so your dreams come true."

It's that, that finally breaks Blair. "Can't you see Dan? They'll never come true. I'll just always be a wannabe, I'll never be an editor like I want, no one will ever wear my mom's dresses except for me, and the Waldorfs will always be nothing!"

"You're not nothing to me," Dan starts to say.

"What's going on?" A muffled voice interrupts him, her mother's she presumes. "Where did everyone go? Blair?"

Dan answers when Blair doesn't. "Help, we're trapped in the closet!"

"Oh my god, Harold. Move that bookcase!" Eleanor shrieks with more alarm than the situation warrants. There's a scraping sound, wood on wood, and then the door flings open. Eleanor looks at them in shock, "Why are you two in there? And where did everyone go?"

"They left, Mrs. Waldorf." Dan rises to his feet and sets the wishing dust on the back of the closet shelf so he can offer his hand to Blair.

Blair refuses to take it. "Just leave, Humphrey, like everyone else." She says icily.

"Blair bear," Her dad says placating. "Now let's not say that. We'll have fun, you, Dan, your mother, and I. And the Humphreys, Rufus can bring Jenny over."

"No, I don't want that. I just want to be left alone. Please leave me alone." She refuses to meet their gaze and finally Eleanor exhales.

"Fine, you have 5 minutes to pull yourself together and change your attitude. Come on, Dan, join Harold and I in the backyard." The trio walk away, with Dan glancing back at her. Once they're gone, she swings the closet door shut again, and lets herself finally fully cry. She leans her head back, hard, wishing she were anywhere but here. Wishing she had a different life, a glamorous life. A life filled with parties, friends, success, and money. She wishes so hard, she can't sense anything around her. Not the crown falling onto her head, not the wishing dust, gently pouring down on her, making her glittering crown shine brighter.

* * *

Blair blinks her eyes, open, delirious and seemingly exhausted. Probably from the nightmare that was her fifteenth birthday party. Still seeing black, she remembers she has on a sleep mask still. She thinks about leaving it on, blacking out the world and the memory of yesterday. But then she hears the noise again, the one that had woken her up.

It's a song, an unfamiliar song with a weird sound. Almost electronic sounding. She rips off the eyemask and looks over to see a shiny device emitting it. It looks like an iPod, but it's not. The whole device is a screen and it's all lit up. She taps at it, feeling delirious and the sound stops. She breathes a sigh of relief, that was far too loud for this early. But then, she notices there's a time on the screen, 8 AM.

She looks around and realizes she's not in her bedroom and stifles a scream. This is nothing like her room at home, with its lavender walls, hanging paintings of Marie Antoinette and Audrey Hepburn. This room is cold and sterile, all various shades of white and grey. The surfaces are gleaming marble and give Blair goosebumps as her feet touch the cold surface. She exits the room slowly, precariously, at the last minute turning back to search for a weapon. A Tiffany's letter opener in the nightstand is the best she can find so she takes it. At least her abductor has good taste.

She continues stealthily down the hallway, making her way towards where she hears the sound of papers rustling. But she freezes once she's halfway there, starting at the sight of a mirror or what looks like a mirror but can't possibly be. Because her reflection isn't her, or not exactly. Where her face was one smooth and dewy, it now has faint lines etched over it. Her cheeks have hollowed out and there's not a pimple in sight. She feels it, unable to process this new development.

Yesterday, she was fifteen years old. Today, she looks like nearing double that. She stares back in horror, unbelieving. Suddenly, it all feels like a dream. It must be a dream. Blair pinches herself in the cheek, watches and feels her finger grasp the smooth skin and pulls away. But nothing changes, except for the now red mark that's appeared. Not a dream then.

She continues toward her previous destination, where the sound was emanating. She now is quite worried this is a psychiatric ward and she's suffered some sort of mental break.

Gently, so as not to disturb the room's occupant, she pushes open a wood door. Sitting, his back to her, is a man reading a newspaper. She doesn't know what to do, so she stands there instead, just watching. The hair is too dark and straight to be her father's. Plus, the way he's sitting is all wrong. There's something foreboding about this man, something that makes her want to turn away and run.

But she doesn't, instead she remains rooted to the spot knowing he's her chance to glean any information as to what has happened. Gathering her courage, she tentatively says, "Hi…"

He turns, halfway, "Darling, you're up. Have too much champagne last night? It's late for you to be just waking up." His tone implies warmth and familiarity, so perhaps he's not a threat.

She has no idea what to say so she just nods and then says, "I guess."

"Well, you'll be late to work if you don't start getting ready soon. Or did you want me to help you with that?" He turns fully now to eye her suggestively. "Need me to accompany you to the shower?"

"No!" She exclaims, a little too quickly. She instinctively folds her arms over her chest and then fixes her tone. "You're right, I'll be late… to work." She almost says school. "I'll just go get ready." Quickly, before he can protest and insist he shower with her afterall she scurries off. Maybe the best thing to do is just to play along with this strange dream she decides, but how to? She goes back to the device that was by her phone and taps the button on the bottom center. It asks for a passcode, which she instinctively types 1115 into but it just shakes and resets. She exhales, then tries another set of numbers, 1590 which seems to work as the screen changes into a series of icons.

Perfect, if she can just call Dan then she can figure this all out. She goes into her contacts, scrolls through for Dan Humphrey and doesn't find him. She does see 'Dad' though and dials immediately. As the line rings, she taps her foot anxiously. But her foot stills as soon as it goes to voicemail. The process is repeated as she dials her mom as well as her parent's home phone.

She does, however, see that her own name is displayed at the top of the contacts app and finds very useful information. Not only is her work phone number included, but also an office address, home address, and emergency contact. She doesn't recognize the name but presumes it was the man she just encountered. After surveying and analyzing all of the information she obtains from the phone, she surmises that alternate universes, which Dan told her about once, are indeed real and she somehow woke up in one. She wishes she would have paid more attention during that conversation, then maybe she could have learned how to get out of one.

But she's reminded to get ready for work when her phone's alarm goes off again so she tries to pretend like this isn't all insane and go about her morning as she should.

Luckily, when she goes to leave for work, the man is gone. A note is scribbled that says, _I'll be home late, don't wait up,_ and it's signed simply with a 'C.' She crumples it and tosses it in the trash. Once she's out on the street, she hails a cab and gives the driver the address from the phone. The whole way there she's nervous and fretting over how quickly she'll be figured out. She doesn't even know which office to go to after all. She just hopes each door is marked and that'll be her indicator.

When she finally arrives, she stares disbelievingly at the directory's listing. There is no way her phone is right. Because if it is, then the suite she works in is that of Vogue Magazine. She feels herself smile as she gets into the elevator, finally thinking this might not be a nightmare after all.

As Blair walks through the offices, dazedly, she stares at the blown up prints of the covers scattering the walls. There's ones she recognizes, like the Kate Moss one, and one she's never seen with unfamiliar faces. Finally, she stops at one, noticing the date, November 16th, 2018. She does a double take-

"B!" Blair swivels away from the dizzying cover. "There you are! Happy birthday, well belated. How was your day with Chuck? I bet he did something super romantic, tell me everything. By the way, what are you wearing tomorrow night? Though, I'd guess Chuck probably bought you an outfit for tonight. I bet it's an haute couture. I'm wearing my new Alexander Wang mini, remember the one? You were with me when I ordered it from Net-A-Porter."

Blair struggles to follow with the girl's endless rambling, scanning her face endlessly trying to work out why it looks so familiar. Finally, it dawns on her. "Serena! Serena van der Woodsen."

Blue eyes blink at her. "Um, yes. Blair Waldorf?" She giggles. "Are you hungover or something?"

Blair nods, dumbly. Her mind reels at the fact that Serena van der Woodsen is her coworker. And friend? She can't be certain but from the way she just chatted her up, she would think so. "Serena, do you feel… Different, today?"

"No, I'm not the one that just had a birthday though. Are you having some sort of quarter life crisis? I hope that doesn't happen to me on my 25th." Serena grimaces.

"25th?" Blair echoes.

"Yes, silly. Seriously, you are being so weird today. Sit!" Serena pushes her into an office and guides her into a chair. "I'll get Nelly to bring you some coffee."

After leaning into the hallway and shouting, Blair sees a grown-up Nelly Yuki scurry down the hall. "Nelly works here?"

"Duh, she's your assistant." Serena leans over to feel Blair's forehead. "You don't feel warm… Is it some new pill you're on? I thought you said you were done with _all that_?"

"I don't do drugs." Blair says primly.

"Right," Serena laughs, wholeheartedly. "And I don't drink!" Her tone is full of sarcasm. "Oh, good, here's Nelly with that coffee. By the way, what's with the headband? A little circa 2008, no?"

Blair reflexively touches her headband. "I just don't feel like myself today. Something is off…"

"I'd say." Serena rolls her yes. "Anyways, caffeinate. You'll want to be energized for tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Blair echoes, waiting for elaboration.

Finally Serena, raises her eyebrows and explains. "Your birthday party, remember? Slash secret engagement party? But remember only we know that. And Chuck, obviously. You probably can't wait to start wearing that monstrosity. It's not like you could forget that thing."

Blair laughs, pretending to be in on the joke, her mind reeling over the word engagement. She doesn't even know who this Chuck guy is, as Serena leaves, she replays the memory of the man from this morning and tries to decide if he looked like a Chuck. But then, she has a better idea and searches her phone for a contact named Chuck. No results. Until she sees the name Charles and realizes that could be him. She clicks and sees a photo, yep that's him. More startling is the fact that in the photo she's there too, kissing him on the cheek, hand splayed across his chest with a monstrosity, indeed, of a ring.

She didn't realize until now that this day could get any worse.

* * *

Blair doesn't know how, but she manages to make it through to Saturday morning without her cover being blown. Whatever that might be; imposter, amnesiac, etc. As soon as she got home from work which had consisted of her sitting at her desk pretending to be "editing" but actually researching herself, she continued compiling information on herself. What she learned was this:

Blair Waldorf is a twenty-five-year-old Executive Fashion Editor at Vogue Magazine who is engaged to Charles Bass, hotel tycoon, and a trendsetting socialite. She starts her day with an egg white omelet with a side of berries, eaten after a private session with her personal trainer, and followed by eight-ounce green juice. After showering and changing into an outfit carefully pressed by staff, Blair will head out. If it's a weekend, Blair usually bounds off to be photographed shopping with friends and getting coffees. Following that, Blair will have another session with her trainer, eat a handful of nuts and dried berries, then will shower, reapply makeup, redress with the help of Dorota, and prepare for evening plans. Evening plans are generally charity galas, cocktail parties, and launches of new businesses across the city.

Blair gleaned all of this information quite easily actually, she found an interview on The Cut with herself called, A Day in the Life of Blair Waldorf. She was shocked how much personal information she disclosed, it even said which mascara she used. Although it was nice to read what her beauty routine was so she can more easily resume this life.

She also learned that her mother is now a successful fashion designer, it actually came as quite a shock to Blair. To think her mother, who just two days ago was thinking of quitting trying to make it as a designer in favor of an office job puts on shows at Bryant Park now. Apparently, Blair invested and the company even made Forbes Top 100 last year.

Also featured in Forbes quite frequently, and just about every other business magazine, is her fiance. She was able to find dozens of articles on him. From how he built up a chain of businesses including a speakeasy, all before he turned 21 to his seedy past. Reading about him doesn't clue her into why this Blair has decided to marry him. She's nothing like she would have imagined. In photos of the two of them, he barely smiles and instead sports a stern expression. When he speaks of her in interviews, it's only ever of the generic variety. Like "I admire her drive" or "Blair motivates me to better myself." The sentiments also lack a personal touch.

When she had imagined who she would marry, a frequent pastime of her now gone youth, she always pictured someone light and wholehearted, someone she could laugh with. Thinking of laughter gives her a pang of longing and once again, she wishes for Dan.

She tried Googling him too but barely anything came up. Her hope had been that Dan Humphrey was still the fifteen year old she had just been with on her birthday and he could help her get back. But it seems the weird time warp affected Dan too if the photo, the one that made her blush, is real. In it, he was all grown up. His already sharp cheekbones were suddenly more prominent, his hair had been cut, and he had muscles peeking out from under his t-shirt. Actual muscles. Seeing him looking like that, like someone she would have cut out of a magazine, did something weird to her and made her click away instantly.

But she's grateful she found him because she needs him. Because Dan is the only one that can help her get out of this. She just knows it.

So that's why she is currently on the subway, Brooklyn-bound, double checking and triple checking the address that took her two hours to find. Having never ridden the subway before, she's quite skeptical it will take her where she intends to go. She's half convinced she could end up at Coney Island. But so far, it seems she's on track according to the shiny device which she learned is a cell phone. If she succeeds in getting back home, to her actual home, she'll be quite sad to be without it. This thing with all its whirls and whistles makes her Blackberry of yesteryear look like an ancient fossil.

Finally, it seems she's arrived at her stop. She walks up the stairs and into the daylight smelling the familiarity of Brooklyn. She remembers her first time here with Dan; they had come to watch him play a show in the park during a summer concert series and she can almost still smell the aromas of pizza and hot dogs. She had instantly informed Dan that Brooklyn is nowhere Blair Waldorf would ever aspire to live and the two had debated the subject during the entirety of the concert. Now, she wishes more than anything she could go back to that day. Even if it meant living in Brooklyn, it would be far preferable to this frightening dream sequence she had woken up in.

It takes her an eternity to finally work up the courage to knock on the dingy green door but she finally does. The whole time, she tells herself that more than likely this isn't the right Dan. She might have to try more addresses before she actually finds him.

But then the door is open and it's him. It's Dan.

"Dan! It really is you," She exhales, exasperated. She surveys him and notes he looks just like the picture she saw instead of the Dan from her fifteenth birthday. His eyes though, those are the same as she remembered. "You- you look so different. So much older, but so- You just, you look good, Dan."

He stares back at her until finally, he registers her presence. "Blair?"

"Yes!" She pushes the door fully open and throws her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder. "Thank god, I found you. Can I come in?" She pulls back slightly, to ask.

"Yeah," He says, seeming a little dumbfounded. "Of course." He shuts the door behind her and as he does so, she surveys his apartment. She walks slowly toward the desk where she sees a framed photo that distracts her momentarily, searing grey eyes taking center stage. But then she sees a typewriter sitting next to it, seemingly just abandoned moments ago. "You still write?" She asks.

"Yeah, you remember?" He frowns. "It doesn't exactly pay the bills but…" He shrugs. "Anyways, I don't mean to sound rude but what are you doing here?"

Blair sighs, "Oh, Dan it's awful. You have to help me." She begins her story in a rush.

"Yesterday, I was fifteen and it was my birthday and then I woke up today and now I'm twenty-five and everything has changed and I have to get home Dan. To being fifteen, I mean what even happened to me? Do my parents know? Do you know? You were there, of course. Everyone is probably worried, they've probably called in a cavalry."

Dan surveys her and she waits for him to answer her many questions. But he doesn't, instead he warily asks her, "Are you on drugs, Blair? Are you high? Tripping out?"

"What? No," She replies, completely appalled. "I can't believe you would ask that."

"Blair," Dan walks toward her, placing a hand gently on her arm but then quickly removing it. "Blair, you're not fifteen. twenty-five, five months older than me, and I'm here in Brooklyn. Not looking for you, as you can see. You're right in front of me."

Blair shakes her head, "I know that. I meant the actual you. The fourteen-year-old you. This is like some alternate universe. That's what I think at least. Remember when you told me about those? It's like my life was one thing and now it's another. I'm engaged to some guy I don't know, Serena van der Woodsen is my best friend, I mean I work at Vogue! How did this happen? It's like I've completely forgotten my life except it doesn't feel like my life at all." She begins hyperventilating and sits on the couch at his urging.

"You're engaged?" Dan echoes, once they're both sitting.

"Yeah, some guy named Chuck." She shrugs. "He's boring, he's not- he's…" She struggles to describe him properly. "He's nothing like you."

Not able to hear him quite right, she thinks she hears Dan say, "Of course he's not." But she can't be certain. "Congratulations, Blair. I wish you the best." She's looking at him but he's not looking back at her, even as he says that.

After a pause, once he finally meets her eye again, she asks. "Will you help me then? To remember my life?"

"Blair," He begins to sound frustrated. "I don't know your life. You're asking the wrong person."

"What do you mean you don't know my life?" Blair laughs. "You're my best friend."

"Not anymore, Blair."

Blair interjects, "Well, I could tell that. You weren't even in my phone. But you know the actual me. That's what matters."

"So much has changed since then. I just," He shakes his head and stands up. "I can't do this Blair. Do you want me to call someone for you? Your fiance maybe? Or you parents? Although they're probably still in Paris and it could be late there."

Blair seizes on this new information, "My parents are in Paris?"

"Yes, working on your mother's newest collection." He says as though it's obvious. "I only know because my dad gets their mail for them and forwards on anything important while they're gone." Dan informs her. "I guess I could call Serena for you, I'd rather not though."

"No," Blair says quickly. "Not Serena. And not Chuck. If I don't have you or my parents around, then I guess I have no one." She announces a little melodramatically, looking down sadly before standing up. "I'll just go."

Dan catches her arm. "Wait, that's not what I meant. I'm sorry. I'll take you home, okay? You know your address?"

Blair nods and follows Dan out the door. He leads her to a car that she recognizes as once having belonged to his dad. She's actually shocked this thing works but then he starts it and she realizes it's just as useless as she remembers. It can't seem to go above 40 even with the pedal to the metal. She turns to Dan, "So what happened to us? Why aren't we friends?"

"Well, you became friends with Serena van der Woodsen and I wasn't exactly worthy of that crowd." Blair can tell Dan is still wounded even as he tries to look unaffected. "We would still hang out on the weekends for a short while, and then we didn't. Then we both went off to college, you at Yale, me at NYU, and we just drifted apart and lost contact."

"But we never saw each other? Even in the past few years? Our parents are still neighbors, why didn't we see each other at holidays?" Blair intones.

"I think your crowd usually does St. John that time year. I think maybe one time I passed you on the sidewalk around Thanksgiving while back home. We nodded at each other and that was that." Dan shrugs, as though it's nothing at all.

But to her it's everything. She can't help but feel an overwhelming sadness. How could she just nod at her best friend and just move along? It takes her a while to be able to speak again for fear of crying in front of him. So long, that they're in front of her building before she feels ready for another question. But he's getting out and coming around to open her car door before she can.

"Walk me up?" Blair can't resist asking. She doesn't want to say goodbye yet.

"Of course," He replies following her into the building. The doorman nods at her and shoots a curious look toward Dan before returning his face to that of a placid expression. In the elevator, she speaks again.

"Can I see you again? I know we aren't friends anymore but maybe that can be different now." She feels a little desperate as she asks but she's slowly beginning to realize this may be her life now and there may be no way back. And if there's not, she needs to fix this cold reality into something that could resemble home.

"I don't know, Blair," Dan hesitates. "I'm sure it wouldn't look very good if you're spotted on Page Six hanging out with me."

"I don't care about that." Blair grasps his arm. "I just want to try to fix our friendship."

When he doesn't reply, she compromises. "Maybe we could just exchange phone numbers for now?"

"Sure, we can do that." Dan hands her his phone and they swap to trade. Arriving at her door, he nods. "Goodbye, Blair."

* * *

That night, at her birthday slash engagement party Blair pretends she's an actress. That she's Audrey. And this is just a role to play.

She dazzles.

No one suspects a thing and by the end of the evening, she realizes acting is quite easy when you've gone numb. The meeting with Dan had killed whatever hope she had left at ever being fifteen again and now all that was left was a cold dread for the next fifteen years of her life and whatever lay beyond that.

She knew she was right about this Chuck guy not being right for her. In the past twenty-four hours, he hadn't questioned her once. Not even a, "Do you feel okay? You don't seem like yourself." Nothing at all.

At the end of the party, he kissed her at the cheek and whispered happy birthday in her ear. Back at home, he had tried to get her into bed but she feigned a headache from the alcohol, which actually was true considering she had only ever drank twice before that night, and pushed him away. She's glad she succeeded, because honestly just a couple of days ago sex was something she still giggled at the idea of. To have it happen for the first time in a body that wasn't hers (yet at least) and with a man she didn't love or even know was unfathomable.

But as much as she has accepted that returning to her fifteen-year-old self was unlikely, she had yet to give up on Dan. Because no matter how many times she replayed his recap of the crumbling of their friendship, she just couldn't accept it. He was her best friend, nothing come between them, not Serena van der Woodsen, not college, not her new social circle. And she was determined to prove it.

So that day, she sets back out to Brooklyn, bearing pierogies from their favorite spot growing up. The aroma is so familiar she almost doesn't want to give them to him but she knows seeing him will be even better. So she brings herself to knock on the door and pretend she doesn't see the shock on his face. It makes her feel better to pretend as though he expected this because best friends always show up at one another places unexpectedly. She couldn't even count the number of times she and Dan walked through each other's front doors without so much as knocking. Or times when they laid under the stars watching a movie projected by a fancy machine her mother had bought them onto a white sheet in her backyard. If she knew those moments were so fleeting, she would have held on tighter.

"Blair," Dan says now. He frowns. "Is everything okay?"

"Of course," Blair smiles brightly. She holds up the paper bag. "I brought pierogies." Quickly, she adds, "If you're free. I should have called."

Dan opens the door all the way and his words make her heart sing with relief, "I always have time for pierogies." She can't resist pretending he had said, "I always have time for you."

Once inside, he directs her to the coffee table. He pushes aside a few books and scattered pages so she can set down the food. She gingerly sits on the couch, too firm and nothing like the cozy Humphrey sofa they spent so many days watching movies on she remembers. She notices the pages he's moved aside look like a manuscript and once he's returned from the kitchen with plates and napkins she points to them. "Were you writing?"

"Yeah," He reaches into the bag and puts a few pierogis on his plate. "I finally felt the energy again, I haven't in a while. Took a break I guess."

Blair smiles, "I can't imagine you taking a break from writing, you're never away from your typewriter for long. Or weren't I guess." She frowns, reconsidering.

Dan looks at her sideways, "Yeah I guess. I wish I still had the same unwavering enthusiasm for writing these days."

"You don't?" Blair feels a little sad at this thought, so much has changed and she's struggling enough to keep up. Dan not consistently writing is too much to bear, unexpectedly. "Then what do you do when you're not?"

"I'm a high school teacher." He runs a hand through his hair. "It's a nightmare actually. Teens are the worse, I wonder if we were that awful."

"You weren't," Blair says easily, since it was just yesterday that was a teenager. "I apparently was." She watches his face and knows he got what she meant without her mentioning specifically the transgressions he filled her in on yesterday.

"It wasn't your fault. Serena had a hold on a lot of people." Dan says sympathetically but she shakes her head. But before she can say anything else on the matter, he speaks again. "By the way, how was your birthday? I'm sorry I couldn't make it."

"It was good," Blair lies and takes a bite so she doesn't have to say anything else. Once they've finished eating, she struggles to find a reason to hang out longer but comes up empty so she instead stands. "I should go, I've intruded for long enough."

"You didn't intrude, at all." Dan rises too. "Thanks, for the pierogies, I hadn't been to Veselka in forever." Blair smiles and starts to let herself out, but then Dan's voice stops her. "There showing How To Steal A Million next weekend at an independent theater a few blocks away. We could go, if you're free."

Blair turns, hand lightly resting on the door which is now cracked open. "I'd like that. I'll give you my number." She watches him type it into his phone and begins to say goodbye again. But then she remembers, "Au revoir,"

Dan shakes his head, a faint blush.

She nods, urging him on. "I won't leave till you say it."

"Arrivederci," He says at last and those words which were once so habitual make her achingly happy.

* * *

Blair goes through the motions all week. Having an assistant, one who apparently fears her tremendously makes doing a job she's never done before surprisingly easy. Anytime she gets an assignment she doesn't know how to do, she defers to Nelly. Sometimes she just asks her for her opinion of how she should handle the task, which Nelly was reticent to do at first, she acted like it was a trick. Or other times the tasks are so mundane she can pass them off to Nelly entirely.

Handling the engagement also proves to be simple as Chuck leaves for Tokyo Monday morning, reminding her he'll be back in one week's time. She couldn't be happier to see him go.

With Chuck gone, she embraces having a place all to herself. One evening she spends the whole night trying on all the dresses in her 500-square-foot closet. The labels are all dizzying, from Gucci to Dolce & Gabbana it seems nearly every major fashion label has a place in her wardrobe.

Then, she makes her way through the shoes; Choo, Prada, Vivier, she tries each and every one. She finds herself hoping that if she does get back home, what she's taken to calling her fifteen-year-old life, she hopes the shoes can come too. She has so much free time that week, that by Wednesday she already has her whole outfit planned out for the movies with Dan on Saturday. The jacquard floral dress with ankle straps might be a little overdressed but she has to take every chance to wear these amazing clothes.

The day of, she adds a headband for the sake of nostalgia. She chooses the crystal one that reminds her of the tiara given to her by Dan she had so unceremoniously tossed aside the day of her fifteenth birthday. She hopes he gets the meaning of it now.

Blair watches as his eyes land on it and there's a flicker of something, recognition she presumes before he greets her properly. He guides her into the theater, telling her she's surprised she came to Brooklyn without even putting up a fight. She doesn't tell him that she would go just about anywhere he asked her if it meant he'd be her best friend again even though it's the sentiment rings true.

Throughout the movie, she has trouble concentrating. She thought watching an old movie with Dan, one they had watched together time and time again, would feel like home but it never does. It's not until halfway through that she realizes why.

She and Dan never went to the movies together. They watched movies religiously, but in her backyard, or in his living room, but never at the theater. Because they were fifteen and going to the movies with a boy was only ever one thing: a date. Now, she can't stop wondering if she's on a date with Dan Humphrey.

But she knows she's not as soon as he brings up her fiance afterward. "You probably need to get back to Chuck." He remarks as they stand awkwardly outside the theater.

She thinks of telling him that he's not home anyways but thinks better of it. Something about it feels like the wrong thing to say. "Okay, I had fun." As they begin to part, she calls his name. "Hey, if you're free next weekend maybe we could go to the park and feed the ducks. For old times' sake," She tacks on.

"I'll bring the bread." He smiles and bids her arrivederci, making her heart glow.

* * *

It's the first of many lies she tells Chuck. She tells him that she's going shopping with Serena, he doesn't think twice. Because that's the sort of thing this Blair Waldorf, _his Blair Waldorf_ , spends her afternoons doing.

"When's the wedding?" Dan asks as breaks off a piece of bread and tosses it toward the ducks. Blair watches as they all eagerly go for it. She reaches into the bag for a piece to feed them herself and her hand brushes his, she wants to hold on. Instead, she clasps the bread, tearing it.

"We haven't set a date." Blair doesn't meet his eye. "Maybe in a year or two. He works a lot, I'm sure he's not in a rush either."

"A long engagement then," Dan remarks as though this is perfectly reasonable. It's the last they speak of it.

* * *

One month goes by in this strange new world and Blair barely notices because she has Dan and somehow that's enough. She doesn't even realize she wants more until one late night when they're walking home from the theater. They went to a showing of My Fair Lady, the most romantic film they've seen together yet since ten years ago. She thinks it's a conscious choice of Dan's so she chooses this time and he's too polite to say no.

It was a mistake, but she doesn't realize that until later when she's had her heartbroken, properly.

Watching Eliza and Higgins kiss unfurls something within her and she finds her eyes drifting away from the screen and over to Dan with each moment that passes. She looks down to where his arm rests on the hand rest between them and she thinks of placing hers over his. Her heart thuds louder and louder each time a thought like this pops into her head. Until it's properly thudding.

As they walk back to his place, it beats in rhythm with their steps. She wonders if he can hear it but from the way he laughs at the story he's reminiscing over, one that only occurred a month ago for her, she reasons that he can't. She wishes he knew just how well she knew this story. It was only five months ago for her. The tale of his birthday at school when they both feigned signed notes from their parents to sneak off and go buy the new DVD release of _Rocketscience_ , an indie film they both wanted to see, well Dan mostly wanted to see. But it was his birthday, and she had told him they could do anything. The way they had gotten caught by Rufus who never played bad cop, that was Allison's job and Rufus had simply pretended he hadn't seen them as they went up to Dan's room to watch.

"Do you want to come up for a bit or should I drive you home?" Dan says now, as they linger in front of his building.

Blair wants to come up and never leave but instead, she replies, "I'll call my driver, I don't want you to have to drive all the way back to Manhattan. But maybe I can come up and wait for him inside?"

Dan nods and starts for the lobby door, holding it open for her. "Of course,"

Inside, she calls the driver and then paces around his apartment before Dan comments. "You can sit you know."

"Thanks," She sits, reluctantly, wishing she was still pacing. Instead, she taps her foot nervously, unable to settle her nervous energy. She can't seem to idle, her mind is going a mile a minute, and there's a terrifying feeling taking hold in her chest.

"Everything okay?" Dan asks her, eyeing her with concern.

"Yes," Blair replies curtly and then her phone pings. "My driver is here. Thanks, for the movie and for letting me come up," She stands up a little too quickly and Dan steadies her. She shakes away his arm, "I should go. Goodnight, Dan."

She manages to make it just to the threshold of his apartment and the apartment. One foot out the door, the other rooted to the spot as he gently turns her back around. He's frowning and watching her with such concern that it makes her come completely undone. "Blair, what's happened?"

It's then, as she's staring back at him, brown eyes on brown eyes, that she realizes it, the undeniable truth. She should have realized it ten years ago. She's in love with Dan Humphrey.

Instead of answering, she leans in and presses her lips to hers. It's like she's seen in the movies, but maybe a little less graceful. It's messy and urgent and she's not sure he's kissing her back until suddenly, his hand comes up to the side of her face and he presses her against the doorframe. She lets out a sigh of relief before kissing him harder.

Their lips are still tangled when the sound of footsteps and one scornful voice interrupts them. Dan pulls away so quickly, it's as though he's been scalded. She watches, the scene unfolding as he turns away to face the girl. She's looking at him in shock, tendrils falling loosely around her face, bags in hand dropping suddenly to the ground.

"I came to surprise you." She says, voice full of pain. Then it turns angry. "I guess now I don't need to ask what you've been doing while I was gone."

"Vanessa," Dan steps toward her, slowly. "I- It's not-"

"Dan, don't be so trite as to even try that." Vanessa holds up a hand.

"But it just, I didn't mean for that to happen. We're not- She's just a friend-" The words cut Blair to her core and she remains paralyzed.

With the mention of her, Vanessa's eyes trail over to Blair and then back to Dan. "It's her isn't it?" She lets out an exasperated breath and brings a hand up to her forehead. "Of course it is. I should've known you'd never really been over her. Let me guess," She turns to Blair. "Got bored of your billionaire boyfriend? Came to break his heart again?" Then she looks back to Dan. "You're a fool and we're done." She picks up her bags and stomps down the hallway as Dan looks on.

"I didn't know," Blair starts to explain softly. Though even she knows if she had known about Vanessa, that fact probably wouldn't have stopped what just happened. It was an unstoppable feeling, an urge she couldn't fight anymore.

As Dan turns back to her, she's filled with fear at the very sight of his expression. Never in her entire life has she seen him look at her so angrily. It forces her to stand up straighter and explain urgently. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"No, you shouldn't have!" He says cuttingly. " _Fuck, Blair._ Why did you have to come back? Vanessa's right, I'm a fool because I can never say no to you, even when I'm clearly just an escape from your cookie cutter Stepford lifestyle."

"That's not true," Blair's eyes start to well up. She reaches out but he snatches away his arm. "I missed you, that's why. You're my best friend,"

"No, I'm not. I haven't been for a long time. We were kidding ourselves to think things could ever be the same. So just go, go back to Chuck and plan your wedding. You can still have your perfect life so go enjoy that. You've already wrecked mine enough." Dan pushes past her to slam the door to his apartment, locking it and not even caring that she's somewhat in his way. He walks back down the hallway and she doesn't have to ask to know he's going after Vanessa.

She runs the other way, taking the second exit, fleeing into the car and managing to direct the driver before completely falling apart. She's thankful the privacy window is up now, separating her from the driver. She sobs and sobs until it's almost certain all of her makeup is smeared. The car pulls up a short time later at Grand Central and she pulls out a compact, trying to fix herself before exiting the car.

"When shall I pick you up Miss Waldorf?" He asks, closing the door behind her.

She shakes her head, unable to answer and walks off into the station before he can question her further.

* * *

Her vision is blurred. She's not sure whether from the high velocity of the train or from the tears that won't stop falling. They don't stop, not even as she's climbing into a cab that'll take her the remaining distance. Not as she tries to put the key in the lock, struggling. Not as a voice makes her turn, a familiar one that she thought she'd never hear again.

"Blair? I thought maybe someone was trying to break in. Your parents didn't mention you'd be coming by." The way he babbles on, she knows he can't tell what state she's in, her face almost certainly shrouded in darkness.

Her hands continue to shake as she fumbles with the lock again, she sniffles. He's close now and now, he can see her properly. "Blair?" His brows knit together. "What's happened? What's wrong? Here's I'll get that." He takes the keys, unlocking the door easily and turning on the switch. She follows him into her own house, memorizing his familiar features. The way his kind eyes watch her, she can't fight the next sob. She throws herself into his arms and he holds on, the way he would if he was her own father.

"I messed up," She says through her cries. "I really messed up. Dan-" She breaks off there, unable to continue. She pulls away, wiping her eyes. "He hates me now," She manages to say.

Rufus shakes his head, "I'm not sure it's possible for Dan to hate you. No matter what happened. Even if you two went your separate ways, he'll always be your friend."

"No," Blair replies emphatically. "He does and he'll never forgive me."

Rufus doesn't look convinced but he nods. "Can I make you tea? Or waffles? You know as well as anyone that waffles cure everything."

She sniffles, ungracefully, "No, thank you. I just want to be alone, if that's okay."

"Of course. Can I call your parents for you? It's probably daytime in Paris." Rufus looks hopeful at this suggestion but Blair shakes her head again. He reluctantly leaves a few minutes later after making her promise she'll call him if she needs anything and that he'll be by in the morning to check on her. It should help, having someone care about her but it makes it worse. Because Rufus didn't even ask what it was that she did to his son, he just had blind faith that whatever it was, it wasn't unforgivable. It didn't undo the fact that she was his son's childhood best friend who he'd practically been a second parent too.

Turning away from the door, kicking off her shoes, not even caring if she scuffs the patent leather, she heads for the last place she was. The last place before everything turned into a nightmare.

She prays it's still there, the gift he gave her when she was still his best friend. She squeezes her eyes shut as she opens the door, afraid to see how much this closet has certainly changed. When she opens them, it's there. She has to reach out to make sure it's real but it is.

Clutching the tiara tightly to her chest, she falls to the floor. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," She says it over and over again even though he's miles away. With trembling hands, she puts it on her head and then notices the box on her right. The familiar Tiffany blue rectangular box, she pulls off the lid and sees the contents for the very first time.

A single teardrop falls onto the long-forgotten gift, blurring the ink a little. She traces her fingers over his name, proudly emblazoned under the title. A book, written just for her.

 _When Holly Met Fred._

She reads it, and rereads it, wishing she had read it ten years ago. Because if she had, she would have known. He loved her. _He loved her too._

She falls back, against the shelves, something falling and grazing her head. She looks up as the wishing dust falls all around her and she shuts her eyes tightly. Wishing she could go back. Wishing she had one more chance. Wishing she could fix her mistake. She'd do it all differently. So differently.

* * *

When she opens her eyes again, she's home.

Blair doesn't know how she knows, sitting in this dim closet, the door shut but she does. She looks down at her lap, looking for the book but it's not there. Her hand comes to her head, which is bare of the tiara. As she pulls it away, she sees it's scattered in glittery dust. Then, she remembers and reaches behind her, her hands clasping around the familiar object. Then, she stands, in search of the box, finding it just where she recalled leaving it. Just to be sure, she opens it and sees it again.

 _When Holly Met Fred._

She studies the tiny ink smudge where her tear had fallen moments ago in awe. She presses her finger to it, coming away dry.

In a daze, Blair pushes the closet door open. The sight before her is the best thing she's ever seen.

"I just, uh, came to check on you. Are you okay?" It's Dan, _her Dan_ , fifteen, awkward, just as she remembered him. He asks, fidgeting.

Placing one foot in front of the other, she slowly paces toward him until they're so close that their breath mingles in the air. She watches as his eyes widen in disbelief. Nodding slowly, she leans in, pressing her lips to his.

"I'm okay, now." She breathes, noses touching. She tangles her lips in his again. It's nothing like the messy, urgent kiss of yesterday. This is more tentative, a little clumsy, teeth clanking for a second, but perfect all the same. It's the first kiss. It feels like home.

When she pulls away, his dumbstruck expression seems to be frozen in time. Blair smiles, "I never thanked you for my gift properly. I loved it."

He blinks. "But you never finished opening it. There was another gift."

"I know, I saw it." She lifts the book in her hand. "It's the best gift I've ever gotten. Besides this," She holds up the tiara in the other hand.

Dan reaches for it, gingerly taking it. Then, the glimmering tiara descends upon her head as he sets it on her with a smile. "You deserve to feel like a princess."

Beaming back at him, she grins, "Now, I do." She pauses. "There's just one thing I need to do." She turns towards the table where she sees the essay prompt sitting. She takes the paper with both hands and tears it in half, then again, and again, until it's shredded. With a flourish, she tosses the scraps into the trash can before turning back to Dan who is nodding approvingly.

Offering her hand, he takes it in his and they step toward the backyard as Blair leads. "Come on, I want to show my parents my gift. They'll love it as much as I do."

She's never been so happy to be home.

* * *

 **END...**

 **For now. I'm thinking of following this up with an epilogue. So you might see that posted in a couple of days!**

 **Also, since writing this it made me think the unfinished 27 Dresses AU I started a while back might work well as a short story like this one. So I might come back to that work soon and break it into a 3-act story. Let me know your thoughts on that and if you'd be interested. In the meantime, I'll be continuing with Pearl Island which will be updated Monday!**

 **Thank you for reading!**


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